It’s been a while, not least because the world has been moving on apace, and I often feel out of sync with it. This story picks up on that vibe…

The Truth About God

“I’m Mike, and I’m the last person on the planet who believes in God.”

The room was silent for a while and then my-name-is-Alison-and-I’m-here-to-help said, “Mike, this is an alcoholics anonymous meeting, I’m not sure we’re equipped to deal with someone with such a… um… eccentric problem.”

I left before it got awkward. Or more awkward. I don’t try to proselytise, I never did. To everyone, Gods don’t exist. Why question that? Or the sun, or gravity, or evolution? I had an embarrassing insanity.

After the AA meeting I decided I needed a break. From people, from society. I would go into the hills, restore my faith, and return better able to face the looks of incredulity from my work colleagues, my now ex-friends. It was probably best my mother was dead. She’d bought Pascal’s line, and believed just in case. That’s not belief to me, but she’d have worried about me. At least someone would have.

The mountain was lovely. It was behind the wooden shack, and all around were trees. Going on and on. The brochure had mentioned wild animals, in a slightly cautious manner. I was excited about them.

I’d brought supplies. Food, water. Enough for a couple of weeks.

Each day I’d start by going outside and greeting the sun. I’d think that but for God’s grace I wouldn’t be able to, there would be no sun, no mountain for me. It felt hollow. I was starting to have a sneaking suspicion.

I read somewhere that for God to exist, people have to believe in him. If they stop believing, then, well, he just fades away. Or she. Either way, the divine entity is gone. Was my belief enough to sustain a being capable of creating the world in six days? I was mildly confident I could believe in a divinity who’d take the seventh day off.

At the end of the second week I walked out in the morning and greeted the sun, accepting it was only there because of physics. Complex physics yes, and we still haven’t worked out how Dark Energy works, but that doesn’t require belief, just observation and maths. I’d been the last believer. Now I was just like everyone else.

That day there was a knock at the door.

“Hello?”

“Hi, are you Mark? That believer fellow.”

“I am Mark.”

“Don’t believe any more?”

I paused. But then I knew saying it would be the final step of my freedom.